


Graveyard

by naturallymorbid



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alchemy, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-02-23 03:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23238151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturallymorbid/pseuds/naturallymorbid
Summary: You wondered what the military wanted with you, why they would come to this little run-down village to recruit.  Was the military that desperate they needed an alchemist like you?  Especially one from a different culture?  Mustang thinks so and he's going to take you on the adventure of a lifetime.
Relationships: Roy Mustang & Original Character(s), Roy Mustang & Reader
Kudos: 12





	1. Challenge 1: Overgrown

Graveyard

_It's crazy when_ _  
The thing you love the most is the detriment  
Let that sink in  
  
_

-Halsey

Challenge 1: Overgrown

You watch his dark eyes scanning the horizon, tracing the landmarks, the machinery, the tall grass…

Military, you think, without even checking for a uniform. His bearing tells it all.

This is not a town where the military comes recruiting. This is a small village, surrounded by a sea of wild grass. Houses were very far apart, with one general store, and the small train station.

You were working in your garden, checking samples from your experiments. You were an alchemist, but not officially in the eyes of the military. You didn’t think there had been any need since you worked with dirt and plants. While you could do interesting things with dirt, there wasn’t much use for plant alchemy that you knew of.

You made your beautiful plants bloom for almost selfish reasons because they made you happy. If people occasioned by your house, you would provide them with blooms for on the way home.

But most of the time you were isolated on this road, venturing into the village main for necessities at regular intervals.

He’s moving down the dirt road towards your home. You don’t stop what you’re doing, watering and pruning. There are other homes. He could not be looking for you.

“Hey there,” an unfamiliar voice calls to you.

“Hm?” You turn around to see the mysterious man at your garden gate. Up close, he’s younger than you originally thought.

Dark hair blows in his equally dark eyes. He’s wearing the royal blue of the military under a dark coat.

“You’re the local alchemist?” he asks. Those dark eyes size you up; some well-meaning villager told him about you at the train station you bet. Soon though, he’s going to notice something you wish he wouldn’t…

“Yeah,” you tell him, straightening up. The blustery wind chooses that moment to knock your wide-brimmed sun hat from your head, letting it flap and choke you where it is still anchored to your neck.

“You’re…” The words die in his throat, those eyes once cold and calculating now blown wide with surprise.

“Ishvalan?” you say.

Long white hair, tanned skin, and red eyes. You know it’s a shock. It’s taken your village years to get used to the idea.

“I hadn’t noticed,” you quip. “You mean, I don’t fit in?” you ask, mock gasping.

“But Ishva…” His mouth hanging open is priceless. You know how crazy this seems.

“Ishavalans don’t do alchemy? Yeah, when they live in Ishval. I was adopted,” you tell him, moving over to the gate. “I only look Ishvalan. My country is Amestrian, I can assure you.”

Your adopted mother had been great. She had found you on a mission trip to Ishval, abandoned, and kept you as her own. You had only heard of the place but never been. Instead, she had taught you her culture – alchemy.

But then, she had died suddenly last year. Your grief was more than you could bear sometimes.

“The file didn’t specify,” he tells you, regaining his composure. “So, you do earth alchemy?”

“Obviously,” you tell him, sweeping your hand over the garden. Your raised beds, only seconds using alchemy when it would have been hours of back-breaking work.

“I’m Lieutenant Colonel Mustang,” he tells you. “I’ve been sent out to scout for new alchemists to work for the state.”

“I’m y/n.”

You start to tell him that you’re not interested, but he did come all this way.

“Would you like some tea?” you ask, opening the gate.

“Yes,” he says, following you in to your cottage.

Your home was nothing special. It leaked in the living room when it rained too much. It was drafty in the winter and could be stifling in the summer. However, it had been your home for about twenty years now.

As you prepared the tea, he spoke to you about coming to take the national exam and becoming a state alchemist. You knew the requirements. You also knew that Central would freak if you showed up.

As if Mustang could sense this thought he said, “On a more personal note, it would be nice to have some young blood come up there and shake things up.”

“Hm, nice, but I don’t think it is for me,” you tell him, sipping your tea delicately.

A cold look comes over his face. “Do you want to be stuck in this overgrown field forever?” he asks.

You remain quiet.

“I noticed that your mother died, noted in your file. You have no ties to this place,” he tells you, his voice softening. “Being a dog of the military isn’t so bad. If you become a state alchemist, you can do your own research and experiments. You would get paid,” he added, looking pointedly at the growing number of cracks in the walls.

“I’ll think about it,” you tell him with finality. You both finish your tea in silence. He’s stubborn and persistent, but he’s right, you think.

“When you get to Central, contact me here,” he says, pressing a card into your hands. You smile. He is confident that you’re going to show.

“I haven’t said I’ll come,” you tell him.

“You haven’t said you won’t either. I can see it in your eyes. You’re like me,” he tells you.

You walk him to the gate.

“You haven’t told me your power,” you say. You had noticed the alchemical circles on his pristine white gloves but hadn’t given them much thought because you couldn’t recognize the symbols.

He snaps his right fingers and a small flame appears.

“Flame alchemy,” he says, extinguishing the fire.

Now it is your turn to stand, open-mouthed in shock.

“I’ll see you in Central,” Mustang tells you as he leaves.

You stand at your gate for a long time, clutching the card he gave you with his contact information.

_Roy Mustang._

You’ve got yourself a challenge, you think.


	2. Unfamiliar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make it to Central after all. Some thoughts on both sides and a deal is made, of which the consequences remain to be seen.

Graveyard

_You can think again  
When the hand you wanna hold is a weapon and  
You're nothin' but skin_ __  
  


-Halsey

Challenge 2: Unfamiliar

Your red eyes are wide as you look around at the sights and sounds of Central. The train station was crowded and busy. Your hat had been threatened on more than one occasion by distracted passerby.

You had debated on trying to disguise your hair and eyes, but your efforts had proved fruitless. Let the people talk. There was no crime against someone of Ishvalan descent being in the city.

Before you had traveled, you had let Mustang know that you would be paying a visit. You weren’t sure he had received _your_ summons; you waited for a few minutes on the train platform.

**

Roy had received your communication that you would be at the train station. He had smirked, because in the end you had given in. Deciding against dressing in civilian clothes, he passed through the station traffic easily in his royal blue uniform, especially since he looked like he was on official business.

Technically, he was on official business.

Even in the crowded station, he could spot you.

You were still wearing that outdated gardening hat and the simple, rough-spun clothes of the outer villages. Because he knew you had red eyes, he could see them in the shade of your hat; they were wide with surprise.

He figured that you wanted to present a front of being nonchalant, but the downturn of your lips and the whites of your eyes gave you away. You were in unfamiliar territory and it showed.

Not only had you given in to his request, as he had suspected, you were also so vulnerable standing there looking lost. It was almost…cute.

“y/n!” he shouted across the platform. A few people turned at his shout to glance at you and then move on.

He was pleased to see a little blush coloring your honey-colored cheeks at his acknowledgement.

“So, you decided to come after all,” he said. The smirk was permanent.

You paused, seeming to have to gather your bearings for a second. “Of course, I had to show you up flame alchemist,” you tell him as you brush past him.

Roy can smell the faintest trace of roses and sweet peas as you pass him.

“It’s time Central had a taste of me,” you continue. He notes that you’re only holding one bag of items. You didn’t seem to plan on staying for an extended time, which you needed in order to prepare. Or, you traveled light.

“Yes,” he agreed. “They won’t know what hit them,” he remarks, catching up.

“Are you to be my guide?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“At least for lunch,” Roy says. He wouldn’t be missed during the lunch hour, one because of his reputation and two because he was driving his subordinates insane.

“Perfect, lead the way then oracle,” you tell him, with a smirk of your own.

There’s a bistro not too far from the train station that he favors. The food is good, but the intelligence is better. He figures he can kill two birds with one stone.

**

You’ve ordered coffee and whatever dish Roy recommended; you weren’t picky. As you sip your coffee, you watch him as he watches the reactions of people around you.

You know there is an Ishvalan slum around town somewhere; you’ve heard about it.

Your hat rests on the back of your chair and people are taking in your white hair and tan skin. Their surprise is almost fun. It’s been a while since anyone _really_ looked at you. People in your village were used to you now.

Roy must have had an ulterior motive for bringing you here, you think. Wanted to test the political waters.

“Tell me about the assessment,” you say. You weren’t coming into this blind; you knew some of what was required, but you wanted to know how much Roy would tell you. How close he was going to play whatever this game was.

“Tell me what you already know,” he retorts, “and I’ll fill in the blanks.”

The two of you stare at one another across the table, each sipping your drink. Stalemate.

“There’s a written test,” you say, giving in.

“Good. Go on.”

“There’s an oral or a physical examination,” you continue.

“Mhm.”

“And the practical or the presentation of your project,” you finish.

“Yes. You’re prepared to be here for months, doing research and preparing?” he asks, looking pointedly at your one suitcase.

“My plants at home will be fine,” you say. Someone from the village would look in on them, the ones that you hadn’t shipped to Central anyway.

“And do you have someone to study with here?” he asks.

To your credit, you don’t wince, but somehow Roy still knows.

“You don’t, huh? Well, I might have a solution but for a price. As a fellow alchemist, you know all about the law of equivalent exchange.”

“Yes. Go on,” you tell him.

“Sometime down the line, I will require something from you. I want to know that you’ll be ready to answer.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

Your food was brought out and your stomach growled.

“Good. Then let’s eat.”

**

Roy watched you as you ate without standing on ceremony. You reminded him a little of Riza; straightforward and functional, not wasting time with unnecessary movements. He also liked that you had an appetite, unlike other girls he had taken out.

You were not unpleasant to look at. The white hair was exotic, as were the red eyes. You didn’t look like you were from the slums, which worked in your favor. A physical exam shouldn’t be a problem, if it came up. 

He already had everything set up; this had been calculated. He needed to see how the people of Central reacted to you being out in the open. They were curious, as he expected.

It would be good to have someone like you in his back pocket; an anomaly, an Ishvalan, who wasn’t Ishvalan. Someone who had an unusual talent.

The King’s wife liked flowers if nothing else, he smirked to himself.


	3. Rural

Graveyard

 _Oh, 'cause I keep diggin' myself down deeper_ __  
I won't stop 'til I get where you are  
I keep running, I keep running, I keep running

\- Halsey

Challenge 3: Rural

You had lived most of your life in a rural area, away from big crowds of people, houses too close together, so much noise. Moving around in Central took a lot out of you.

Before Roy returned to Central office, he took you to the house where you would be staying. If you had any illusions about whether this was calculated or not, they were wiped away with that move. Roy had known you were coming, that you would be here to challenge.

The house was an older two-story made of stone and covered in bright emerald vines. You had the same breed of vine at your cottage; a pang of homesickness swept through you so swiftly that you gripped the door of the vehicle.

The surrounding neighborhood looked nice enough, more two-story homes, some sprawling and some more on the cottage side. You could see some people out in their yards up and down the street, women and men, children.

“Everything okay?” Roy asked from beside you. He wasn’t driving, of course, why would he? He had an underling named Havoc driving. He was a tall blonde who was quiet and seemed to chain smoke.

“Yes,” you told him, but didn’t explain your behavior.

“You’ll be staying with Rosealba Milagros, better known to the State as the “Growth-Matter Alchemist.”

You had heard her name, read some of her research and used it for your own, developed your own techniques based on that work. At least, before you had tried something you shouldn’t.

You didn’t want to let Roy in on how excited you were, didn’t want to think about how much you were going to owe him at some point.

The car stopped in front of her simple wooden gate. The heavy door at the front of the house opened and a woman in her fifties came out to greet you. Long, greying hair was pulled into a simple queue at her neck, a sun hat hung off her back, a big smile lighting up her tan features.

“Hey there,” she called.

Feeling a little dizzy, you stepped out of the door Roy had opened. Havoc was unloading your one bag from the trunk. You heartbeat increases and you hear a roaring in your ears.

“Rosealba, this is the student I was telling you about,” Roy said to her. “This is y/n.”

The older alchemist took in your appearance, hazel eyes flicking over your Ishvalan features. If she was bothered, you couldn’t tell.

“Nice to meet you, y/n,” she tells you, grabbing your hand in a firm handshake. Her fingers are like your own, calloused with perpetual dirt in the fine ridges of your fingerprints.

“Nice to meet you. I’m familiar with your research,” you blurt. She seems pleased.

“Good, then we’ll be able to make lots of trouble together,” she says with a barking laugh.

“Glad you two are hitting it off,” Roy interjects. “I have to get back to work. This is my line at central. I’ll be making periodic checks and will let you know when the first exam will be.” He presses a card into your hand before he leaves.

“Thank you,” you tell him, actually meaning it.

He nods.

“He’s a bright young man,” Rosealba comments from behind you. “Youngest to pass the exam. If he recommends you, then you must have talent. Mustang doesn’t go out of his way for just anyone.”

That’s what you had suspected, but never voiced.

“Lucky me,” you say.

“Well, let’s get you moved in and I’ll give you grand tour.”

You nod and pick up your bag, following her.

Inside, the house is cool and equipped with a few modern conveniences you didn’t have, such as a telephone and a radio. There are plants and books everywhere.

Your room is on the second floor. It’s simple with dark hardwood floors, a floor to ceiling window, and a modest full-size bed. There is one dresser for you to put your clothes and plenty of room for plants. A woman after your own heart.

“I’ll leave you to put away your things. Just join me downstairs,” Rosealba says cheerfully.

“Okay, thanks.”

It only takes you a minute or two for you to put away your few clothes. It takes a little longer to get some of your samples of unpacked and situated in front of the window.

When you join Rosealba downstairs she hands you a steaming cup of mint tea.

“Brewed from some of my stock. Come on, let me show you around.”

You sip the tea, finding it cool and refreshing, as you follow her from room to room. The sitting room is filled almost wall to wall with gardening and alchemy books. Several big overstuffed armchairs are scattered around, just waiting to be used for hours of research.

The kitchen is full of windows with all sorts of fresh herbs growing in pots, ready for cooking. The bathroom even has delicate little air plants who thrive on humidity. The study is her research lab with the necessary equipment.

Out behind her home is a greenhouse. The yard is full of paths and plants.

For a moment, you forget that you’re in the biggest city. You feel like you’re at home again, out in the rural. Around you, the flowers and plants move in the wind.

But only for a moment.

Next door, you see a woman probably around your age hanging laundry out on the line. She smiles and waves at you before returning to her task.

“Oh, that’s my neighbor Gracia. I’ll introduce you sometime. She’s probably around your age. Well, come on to the lab and I’ll show you what I’m working on. I think you’ll appreciate it,” Rosealba says.

You have to smile; Rosealba’s energy is infectious.

You almost forget to even be homesick. You allow yourself a few silent tears at bedtime and that’s that. You have something to accomplish.


	4. Tranquil

Graveyard

_They say I may be making a mistake_ _  
I would've followed all the way, no matter how far_

-Halsey

Challenge 4: Tranquil

You rested in the tranquility of the garden at dusk. You had been working hard, pushing your alchemical limits daily with Rosealba. Today she had been summoned to work on the gardens at one of the Central offices.

But you had been here a month and wondered if you were making a mistake. Roy had not been back, had sent no word. What if this had been some sort of elaborate trick?

“Hey there neighbor,” the woman next door called, hanging over the fence that divided your yards. You couldn’t remember her name now.

“Hey there,” you said, getting up from the comfort of the wooden bench.

“You’re Rosealba’s apprentice huh?” she asked, pushing some light brown, almost blond hair from her eyes.

“Yeah. I’m studying with her for the alchemy exam,” you confessed. Up close, the woman was definitely around your age. She had a soft round face that made her more matronly than your high cheekbones and angled features.

“Oh yeah? I thought I had heard that. Would you like to join me for dinner? My husband is probably working late, and I hate for it to go to waste.”

“If I wouldn’t be an imposition,” you said. What you really meant was if she didn’t mind having someone who looked like you in her home.

“Not at all. He works late a lot and I would appreciate the company.”

“Sure.” You would too, since Rosealba hadn’t made it home yet. 

“I’m Gracia, by the way,” she said, following your progress to the end of the fence line. “Gracia Maes.”

“Y/n,” you said.

“Nice to meet you. Are you from Ishval?” You knew the question was probably coming; you had seen her taking in your appearance.

“No. I’m from a little rural area outside Central. It’s so small I don’t think it even has a name. I was adopted.”

“Oh, that’s interesting. I didn’t know. I’ve never met an Ishvalan,” she said.

“Me either, not really. My mother was Amestrian,” you told her.

“Was she an alchemist too?”

“Yes, I learned it all from her.” You felt another pang, but it disappeared. At least Gracia seemed to understand that your mother was gone, since she used past tense.

Gracia led you towards her home. It was a little newer than Rosealba’s, two story and more sprawling.

“It’s so nice to have company,” she told you. “Maes doesn’t bring many people home.”

Her home was simply decorated but tasteful and clean. Not at all like Rosealba’s or yours where plants and books occupied the same space in huge quantities.

“Maes is your husband?” you ask, looking at all of the pictures lining the walls. You noticed the blue uniform of the military.

“Yes. He works in the investigations department. It’s great, but keeps him out so late sometimes,” she tells you, moving towards the kitchen. You can hear the worry in her voice.

In the kitchen, there are delicious smells. Fresh bread, fresh vegetables, meat. You hadn’t realized that you were starving until now.

“This smells delicious,” you tell her.

“Thank you. Like I said, it would go to waste waiting on Maes to come home,” Gracia said, grabbing plates and handing you one. “Dig in, please, I know you’re hungry.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. You got a little bit of everything. Because you worked so much, you never had to worry about your weight. You remained curvy but muscular.

Gracia, you noticed, was a little bit rounder, but in a pleasant way. In a way that reminded you of your mother.

She was very chatty, telling you all about the neighborhood – who moved in and out, their occupations, most of which were military or alchemists. She told you all about her husband and his work. She and Maes had not been married too long. She still had that newlywed glow about her.

“What about you, do you have someone special in your life?”

Dinner had been cleared away and now the two of you were sipping coffee.

“No. It’s just me and the plants right now,” you told her. The truth was you didn’t consider romantic entanglements. Your mother had been single. That had been good enough for her.

“Hm. Well, Maes has a single friend. He’s married to his work too. Must be an alchemist thing,” she teased. “I bet we could get you two together.”

You laughed. “I would hate to be the other woman,” you said.

“Well, there is a military ball coming up soon. He’ll probably need a date and I could always use the company. Would you consider it if I ask Maes?”

You told her that you would, although you didn’t know if you could waste time with something like that when you were supposed to be training.

It was a wonderful evening, spent in tranquility with a friend. You hadn’t realized how much you missed human companionship until now. Back home, you had a few neighbors you were friendly with, but no one around your own age.

You knew it was getting late and you had an early start in the morning with more work.

“One thing before I go,” you tell Gracia. There was a vase on her table with wilting flowers. You clapped your hands together, green light sparking from them, and the flowers were once again bright and cheerful.

“Oh lovely,” she cried, touching the delicate petals. “I had hated to throw them out because Maes had gotten them.”

“Now you don’t have to for a while,” you said. Sometimes you could make things happen just by pushing your hands together, without thinking about it.

“Please come back soon,” Gracia told you, giving you a tight hug on her doorstep. “Too much work can be a bad thing.”

You promised that you would. You both said goodnight and you headed off to Rosealba’s dark home.

“I brought this home for you,” she said, standing at the kitchen island. Rosealba looked tired as she sipped her tea. A simple envelope was waiting for you on the counter.

“Thanks,” you told her.

“I see you’ve finally met Gracia. Wonderful, isn’t she?”

You agreed, tearing the envelope open. It was an invitation to the military ball Gracia had told you about. A handwritten note fell out beside it.

_Be my plus one; Central needs an early taste of you - Roy_


	5. Rustic

Graveyard

_I know when you go down all your darkest roads_ _  
I would've followed all the way to the graveyard_

-Halsey

Challenge 5: Rustic

You had never considered the way you dressed. It wasn’t important when you were spending the majority of your time in the garden. You simply dressed for comfort in usually worn and thread-bare clothing because there was no point in fussy clothing when digging in the dirt.

That night, you considered the invitation for a long time before you finally fell asleep. When Gracia had mentioned the ball, the thought had flitted across your mind that Roy might use it for something. He had not said this was your equivalent exchange though, so you figured it was more a request or another test.

“Something keeping you up last night?” Rosealba asked the next morning as you sat listless at her counter.

Silently, you passed the invitation to her.

“Oh, that’s a surprise. I suppose though, since you’re taking the test eventually that it doesn’t hurt for you to get acquainted.”

You noticed she already had an invitation set off to the side.

“No, I guess not. I’ve just never been to anything like this,” you tell her.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Rosealba assures you, patting your hand gently.

“Can I go next door for a second?” you ask.

“Sure. I’ll be in the greenhouse when you return. Just find me there.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

You took off, lean legs carrying you down the stone path and across the dewy grass. You hoped Gracia was up this early. Breathless, you knock on the door and hope she is home.

“Just a minute!” a male voice called out. Her husband must have been home.

A sleepy looking man opened the door, pulling on his uniform jacket. You supposed it was pretty early. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. He adjusted his glasses, bright green eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Realization seemed to dawn, and he grinned, pulling you in the house. “You must be y/n. Gracia told me all about you. Come on in!”

You weren’t used to being manhandled, especially this early in the morning. He spoke a mile a minute, telling you about all of the pictures in the hallway, all about Gracia, and other things you couldn’t quite understand. Your brain had not fully clicked on yet.

“Good morning,” Gracia greeted you. She had coffee started and several steaming mugs. “Here, this will help.” She pressed a mug into your hand.

“Thanks,” you tell her taking a sip. You had almost forgotten what you had come over for this morning.

“Well my beautiful wife, I’ve got to be leaving,” Maes was saying. You looked away as they made their goodbye. You felt like you were intruding. “Nice to meet you y/n. See you around.”

“Sure.”

“So, what can I do for you this morning?” Gracia smiled.

“Remember what we were talking about last night?” you asked, handing her the invitation.

“Yeah. Oh! You got one!” You had removed the private note from Roy before you showed it to anyone. “Interesting.” She turned the card over and over in her hands.

“I thought so. Look, I don’t know anything about these kinds of things. Rosealba said she would help, but…”

While you respected her as a researcher and a mother figure, you weren’t sure that you wanted fashion advice from Rosealba.

“You want a younger opinion huh?” she asked, as if reading your thoughts.

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes.”

“How about this, find out if you can leave for a little while this afternoon and I’ll help you.”

“Sure. I’ll be right back.” You ran back to Rosealba’s, finding her in the greenhouse working on research. Your words were hurried, your face flushed.

“That would be fine, y/n,” she tells you. “You’ve been working hard, and this is also important. Go tell her and hurry back.”

You nod, feeling like a child arranging a playdate or a sleepover. After another running trip, you’re back to work.

_ _

You and Gracia walk to the nearby stores. She shows you more of the downtown than you got to see when you rode with Roy. People turn to look at you as you walk past them, but Gracia doesn’t notice as she points out all of her favorite places.

When she takes you in the dress store, you realize that your style of dress can best be described as rustic.

“We’ll find something,” Gracia assures you, patting your arm.

She has you try on long dresses, short dresses, silk, cotton, sleeveless, with sleeves, open backed. They’re in all colors. You’ve never seen so many dresses. You had never felt such fine materials. You found that you liked trying them on.

“They all look great on you,” she tells you. “Since you’re tan and curvy. But is there one you love?”

You sigh.

You hadn’t found a dress that spoke to you.

“I may have one,” the shopkeeper said. “It was a custom order, but no one ever picked it up. I hated to throw it out. I’ll be right back.”

You and Gracia look at each other. When the shopkeeper had seen you were not going to hurt her or any of the other lies circulated about Ishvalans, she had warmed up to finding you something.

“Try this,” the shopkeeper said. She had brought you an emerald green beaded dress with capped sleeves. The material was light and swished around your feet when you pulled the dress up your hips. The material hugged your curves as you slid into the dress.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“That’s the dress,” Gracia said.

You nodded. You knew it was the second you had put it on. There were little floral designs in the beading that you hadn’t noticed till you put it on. It glittered and shifted, not unlike your alchemy.

You were reluctant to take the dress off, but you paid for it and bundled it up for the big night. Now you felt a little more ready to face Central.


	6. Quaint

Graveyard

_Oh, 'cause I keep diggin' myself down deeper_ _  
I won't stop 'til I get where you are_

-Halsey

Challenge 6: Quaint

Your mother had taught you to dance. She said it was a skill that you needed, although she didn’t say why or for what. You went along with her lessons, cherishing the time together. She had taught you formal ballroom dancing, Xingese dances, dances of the desert nomads, Drachma, and quaint, folk dances of her village.

Truthfully, you preferred the wild dances of the desert nomads because they could be practiced alone and were sensuous. They had been your mother’s favorite too from all her extensive travels. You didn’t know exactly what your mother did before she had adopted you, but you got the idea it may not have been legal.

Today, Rosealba had given you the day off to get ready for the military ball. She had gone on ahead to take care of things at Central Command. You had worked hard in the days leading up to the ball. You had spent some time in the evenings with Gracia just chatting and trying out different looks for the big night.

You wondered if this was something you had missed out on when you were a teenager, just being one of the girls.

“This kohl is really going to bring out your eyes,” Gracia tells you as she paints a line over one eyelid. You silently wondered if that was something you needed to do. “You’re just so exotic. Everyone is going to love you.”

You hope that’s the case, as Gracia continues to fuss with you. If she ever has children, you hope she has a daughter. She’s highlighted your eyes with dark kohl and darkened your lashes. You don’t recognize yourself. Your eyes are burning embers in your glowing face.

She parted your long hair to the side and loosely curled the locks, letting them flow over one shoulder. You look seductive and mysterious.

“Gracia…” you start. You don’t know what else to say. “Thank you,” you finally say, and hug her.

“You’re welcome. I don’t mind.”

You try to just read in the remaining time. You realize that Roy never said how you were going to get to the ball. With relief, a familiar black car pulls up and Havoc steps out. His face says what his mouth isn’t capable of; he nearly drops his token cigarette.

“Y/n,” Roy says, also stepping out. He’s dressed in the military blue but a more formal style. His eyebrows raise and he seems at a loss for words.

“You clean up nice,” you tell him, grinning.

“I could say the same of you,” Roy says, recovering. He holds the door as you get in the car, sitting carefully on your dress. During the drive, Roy keeps stealing glances at you.

“Something wrong?” you ask innocently. He shakes his head.

At Central Command, they announce you to the floor. Luckily, there’s not much of a line when the two of you arrive. You suppose Roy was hoping to be fashionably late.

“Take my arm,” he whispers to you. He doesn’t wait but slips your arm in his. You begin the descent as they announce Roy’s rank and name, then your status. Every pair of eyes in the vicinity turns to look at you.

“Roy,” you whisper, feeling a little nauseous.

“This is a good thing,” he whispers back, nodding to King Bradley. You manage to spot Gracia and Maes out in the crowd. You lift your free hand a fraction and wave. “You look fine,” he tells you.

Once in the crowd, you mingle. Roy introduces you to so many people and tells you so many secrets your head is spinning.

The live music picks up and you know that you’re expected to dance. It will be a nice break from interacting.

“You’re doing fine,” Roy whispers in your ear as he spins you around on the floor. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“What are we hoping to accomplish?” you ask.

“To prove that you’re capable of fitting in,” Roy says. He pulls back a little, searching your eyes. He seems to find the answer and pulls you close again. “Who taught you to dance?”

“My mother.”

“You dance beautifully. Who helped you clean up?”

“My neighbor, Gracia Hughes.” At this, Roy smirks.

“Remind me to thank her for me.”

When the dance is over, Gracia finds you, dragging Maes behind her.

“This is your date?” she asks. “Why didn’t you say so? We know Roy.”

“Yeah, he’s my best friend,” Maes says, showing you yet another picture.

Suddenly, it hits you that even putting you with Rosealba was a calculation. That’s exactly the kind of man you thought he was. You were a little upset, that he didn’t tell you. But on the other hand, he probably didn’t trust a lot of people, including you. You hadn’t proven yourself yet.

In the corner, the musicians started a beat you were familiar with. You couldn’t help the way your hips moved. Couples were clearing out, unfamiliar with the song. It was a folk song with some desert influence.

As if under a spell, you were out on the dance floor, performing alone.

On the side, you could see Roy’s shocked face with Maes and Gracia smiling. Well Mr. Calculation, you thought, weren’t expecting that huh?

The crowd, although stunned by you being what you were, seemed to enjoy your undulations, your shimmies, your kicks and twists. The musicians seemed pleased that you knew the song and knew how to illustrate the feeling behind it.

When you were finished, you bowed and moved back to Roy’s side.

“Pick your jaw up there, flame boy,” you whispered.

“Wow, Roy, where have you been hiding her?” Maes laughed. “I’ll go get drinks.”

Roy just continued to stare at you, as you and Gracia chatted about your dance and the stunned faces of those around you.

“Well now Lieutenant Colonel,” a jolly voice said from behind you. It was King Bradley and his wife. “What a quaint performance.”

“Thank you, sir,” he finally said.

“I can’t wait to see how she does on the exam. Been a long time since we had someone mix things up.” He clapped Roy on the shoulder with a large hand.

“Beautiful,” his wife told you. “Very quaint. I love seeing different customs.”

“Not bad at all,” Roy finally told you, as Maes returned with the drinks. “Just warn me next time.”

“Where is the fun in that?” you chided.


	7. Bleak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the written test.

Graveyard

I keep running when both my feet hurt  
I won't stop 'til I get where you are

-Halsey

Challenge 7: Bleak

After the glitter and glam of the ball, everything else seemed to pale in comparison. Roy had said nothing more about your performance that night and had let you ride home with Rosealba. She had enjoyed the performance and hadn’t realized you were so talented outside of gardening. 

By the next day, you returned to your training with Rosealba feeling a little bit like that cinder girl from the stories, abandoned after the party.

“Hey there,” Roy called from the gate. You hated the little bubble of pleasure his greeting brought to your chest. Things would have to be professional between you if this was going to work out.

“Hey there yourself,” you retorted, pulling off your gloves and coming to let him in.

“First, I want to tell you that you really impressed Bradley last night with your impromptu performance. He sought me out this morning to tell me again.” You felt your cheeks flush from his compliment. “Second, I’m here to tell you that the first portion of the exam, the written, is going to be this Saturday.”

“Already?” you asked. Time seemed to be flying by.

“Yes. You have been preparing for the written too, right?”

“Of course.” You had worked on it some, though maybe not as much as you should have, judging by the look on Roy’s face. You must have given something away, your expression.

“Make sure you finish the written test,” Roy tells, you, his voice low.

You nodded.

“The military only takes several alchemists a year. I _need_ you to be one of them.” The emphasis on the word ‘need’ hit you in a certain way.

“Why?” you blurted. It wasn’t like your field of alchemy was in high demand, unless…

Had Roy found out what you had done? Would he use that against you if he did find out?

“I have my reasons,” he said.

“I’m going to guess you won’t share them with me,” you said.

“Not just yet. Just get through the written test and we’ll talk more.”

No goodbye or anything. He simply walked back to his car and let Havoc drive him away.

You tried to squash your feelings down, but you were feeling nauseated. You were doubting whether you would make it past Saturday.

“Hey, something wrong?” Rosealba wanted to know.

“Roy came by. The written is on Saturday,” you told her, voice hollow.

“Oh, that’s great. Then we can focus on everything else after you get it out of the way.”

“Rosealba, I don’t know if I can do this,” you confided. You were close to tears, feeling very overwhelmed.

“You can. You know your theory well. Come on, we’ll go practice.” You didn’t have much of a choice as she dragged you into the house.

**

By Saturday, you were so tired of writing, you didn’t want to look at writing instruments.

As you walked up the stone steps into the lecture hall where you were supposed to be testing, you couldn’t help but notice there were mostly men taking the test today.

You kept your head down and found a seat towards the back. It would be tough for you to test with everyone looking at the back of your head.

As time got closer, you could see Roy and other alchemists piling in to proctor the test. King Bradley was the last one as they called the test to order.

You swallowed hard, trying to get the lump in your throat down. You knew after you finished you would probably throw up. Hopefully if you finished.

The test you were handed was booklet size. You tried not to look to Roy.

You were given the go ahead to start and you picked up your pencil, your palm feeling sweaty. You switched the pencil to your non-dominant hand and tried to dry your palm.

Breathing deeply, you opened the test and started looking for questions that you thought you could fill out. With a sigh of relief, you were able to locate some scattered within. You blocked out the noise of the clock ticking and continued with flipping pages.

You went back through the booklet, answering the questions you weren’t quite as sure about. Your tension was starting to ease somewhat, the more you answered. Rosealba was right, your theory was good.

Some of the questions looked like their sole intention was to weed out weak candidates.

“Ten minutes,” someone called.

Your heart jumpstarted.

It still felt like so much you hadn’t done. Roy’s words rang in your head again, to finish the test. That he needed you.

You put your head down on the cool surface of the table for a moment. This seemed hopeless, but it only seemed that way.

You had to finish the test, even if the answers weren’t correct. Making an attempt was half the battle.

Picking the pencil back up, you continued writing furiously. You knew some of the answers probably wouldn’t make sense, but they were there.

“Five minutes.”

You could do this. You were on the final question. The tip of your pencil was even scratched down to the wood.

“Close your books.”

You snapped the book shut and breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t perfect, but it was done.

As you left, Roy nodded to you but said nothing.

Havoc gave you a ride back to Rosealba’s.

“How did it go?” he asked, ever present unlit cigarette.

“Bleak,” you tell him. “Can I bum one of those?” you asked. You didn’t smoke often, but your nerves were shot.

“Yeah, sure thing.” Havoc dug one out of a uniform pocket and threw you a matchbook.

You smoked, letting the ashes fall out of the car window. You had fire in your lungs but felt better.

“You think you passed?” Havoc finally asked, turning on your street.

“I hope so, for the Lieutenant Colonel’s sake,” you confess.

**

Roy held your test in his hands. Riza stood behind him, watching him read carefully over the score and answers.

“So?” she asked, breaking the heavy silence.

“She passed. She answered everything, not correctly, but even her mistakes are better than most of the entries.”

“So, she’s exactly what you thought she was?”

“And more. Much more. Oral exam and practical next.”


	8. Kites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The results of your test and a secret revealed.

Graveyard

_Oh, when you go down all your darkest roads_ _  
I would've followed all the way to the graveyard (no, oh)_

-Halsey

Challenge 8: Kites

The day after the test, Rosealba allowed you to sleep in. You got up, stretched luxuriously, with the sun fully through your window. Now that you had a night’s rest under your belt, you felt a lot better. Perhaps you would find out your results today.

Downstairs, you found breakfast warming on the stove. Rosealba was probably outside or in the lab. You took your time, reading the paper and chewing. You noticed that today was a kite flying day in the park. That sounded interesting.

After breakfast, you went out into the laboratory to find Rosealba. She was studying some of your seedlings under a light, teasing out the best samples for potting on later.

“Hey there stranger, feel better?” she asked.

“Yeah, much, thank you.”

Yesterday Rosealba had made you go get a long, relaxing bath and then fixed you your favorite rustic dishes. She hadn’t pried into your business about the test. You suspect she smelled the cigarette all over you, but she didn’t say anything about it. You were thankful.

When you were finished, Rosealba let you hang out in the study and read non-gardening or alchemy books. Before long, you had been unable to keep your eyes open and dragged yourself upstairs to bed.

Automatically, you reached for the seedlings she had teased out and began potting them on in the already prepped pot nearby. As you tucked them into their new beds, you eventually became aware of Rosealba watching you.

“Hm?” you asked.

“y/n, how are you doing that?” Rosealba asked.

“Doing what?” You noted that the seedlings were now a little bit bigger than they had been when she teased them out. Sometimes that happened around you, after your mistake.

“y/n, did you do something you shouldn’t have?” Rosealba asked.

You wondered if you could share the truth with her, especially since she worked for the military. Though you were trying to join the military.

“I did. Just after my mother died.” You sighed. You hadn’t told anyone this story, though people suspected.

“You can trust me,” Rosealba said. You knew that you couldn’t just take her at her word. “I understand.”

You watched as Rosealba plunged her hands into the pot you had been working on, green light shining as the plants grew to their full height.

“No circle,” you said.

“No circle. You gave up something to acquire that power, didn’t you?” She stroked the side of your face with a dirt covered finger.

“Children. I gave up the ability to have children.”

“Me too. It’s a lonely life, isn’t it?” Rosealba said. “I had a husband once, but he died. I decided I didn’t need that part of myself anymore.”

You hadn’t given it much thought until you encountered the “truth” and that seemed the easiest thing to give up at the time.

“Well, now that we know a little more about each other, show me what you can really do with these seedlings.”

You clapped your hands together and dug your fingers into the dirt with the poorer seedlings, watching as they came back to life and flourished.

“Oh wonderful. I knew something was different about you. I bet that Mustang knows too. Doesn’t miss a beat that one.”

You shivered. You weren’t sure that you wanted Roy to know, though of course he probably did.

The two of you worked the afternoon on new strains of plants and something for the practical. Rosealba had no doubts that you had passed.

“Hey neighbor,” Gracia called over the fence as you made a circuit around the garden. She had Maes with her, who was trying to make his kite grab the wind.

“Hey, are you heading out to that kite thing?” you asked.

“Yeah. I was wondering if you wanted to go with us. Maes has an extra kite.” There was a crash behind her and Maes disappeared from view.

“Sure. Let me just let Rosealba know.”

“Tell her she’s more than welcome to come,” Gracia called after you.

Soon enough, the plans were settled, with the four of you walking to the park.

“So, any news on your test?” Gracia asked.

“No,” you told her, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. You figured if you had done too badly you would have heard by now.

“I tried to get Maes to find out, but he doesn’t work in the same department.”

“Thanks,” you said, smiling.

“The results will come soon, I’m sure,” Rosealba assured you.

Maes took the opportunity to begin explaining his kite and all of the pictures he was planning on taking. As you walked along with Gracia, he took the opportunity to snap a picture of both you.

You laughed as Gracia lightly chastised him.

As you walked, you were aware of a big black car following your group. You had a feeling you knew who it was, but you didn’t want to be bothered with his games right now.

“You’ve got a stalker,” Maes told you as your group reached the park. “But I think he’s harmless.” 

“Mhm,” you nodded. You weren’t going to let Roy ruin this afternoon if you could help it.

The sky was filled with all sorts of makeshift kites, children and parents running by happily, couples lounging around watching.

You watched Maes try to get his kite into the air, letting out string and running along. You and Gracia laughed at his attempts.

“You try it then,” Maes pouted.

“Go ahead,” Gracia told you, handing you the spare kite. You ran along, only able to get it up a little bit over your head. You laughed at your own failed attempts as you collapsed in the grass.

“Glad to see you’re having fun,” Roy yawned from above you.

“Needed a day off,” you told him. Whatever he had to say must have been special for him to get out of the car himself. You could see Havoc standing nearby, smoking and talking to the Hughes and Rosealba.

“You deserved one,” Roy said. “You passed. You’re on to the next test, oral exam, this week. Wear that dress from the ball,” he told you as he headed back towards the car.

You ‘whooped,’ jumping up and down with the kite.


	9. Frisbees

Graveyard

_You look at me (look at me)_ _  
With eyes so dark, don't know how you even see_

-Halsey

Challenge 9: Frisbees

You hiked your dress up over your ankles to make the climb up the stone steps to the exam chambers. There was no preparing for this examination, Rosealba had told you. It came down to whatever King Bradley wanted to ask you. At least it wasn’t a physical.

You were in good shape, but you knew the examiners wouldn’t be worried about so much as the color of your skin, your hair, your eyes.

Roy was standing at the top of the steps with his second in command, Riza. You had met her only in passing. She seemed his ever-present shadow.

“Ready?” Roy asked, raising an eyebrow at the display of your tanned ankles. You had forgotten to drop the dress when you had reached the top. Your breath was shallow in your lungs, a stich growing in your side. You hated stairs, you decided.

All you could do was nod.

“It simply comes down to what Bradley wants to know,” Roy reminded you.

“Any ideas what that might be?”

“Probably where your loyalties lie,” Roy said as the three of you made your way to the chambers.

Ahead, you could see a middle-aged man leaving with his hat crushed between his hands, looking flustered. You tried to ignore the sudden swell of nausea in your stomach.

“We’re early, Bradley will like that. Knock ‘em dead,” Roy said, ushering you in the dark, cool chambers.

There was a single light illuminating a three-legged golden chair. You studied it for a brief moment. The chair should not have been able to stand, but it was.

Part of the test, you decided and went to sit down, delicately crossing an ankle behind the other to keep your shaking knees together.

“Very good,” King Bradley’s amused voice rang out from the shadows. You let out a quick breath of air. First test passed. You dipped your head, showing deference to his position. In the dank lighting, you could see him sitting with a panel of unknown faces just ahead of you.

“Thank you,” you murmured.

“Now, first question. Where are you from?”

You answered with the name of your village. The second question came almost as soon as you had gotten the first answer out of your mouth. You knew it was meant to catch you off guard. But you weren’t going to let it.

“Who were your parents?”

You answered this too. If Bradley knew your mother, you couldn’t tell.

The next questions were as innocuous as the first two; it was almost like having a stilted conversation. In the light, your beaded dress threw glimmers all around the room, giving everything a circus glow.

Bradley wanted to know your alchemy, what you had studied, who you had studied.

“Why do you want to join the military?” he asked you, leaning forward on his elbows, all traces of his smile gone. He had been playing with you before, just going through the motions. You could feel it down in your bones.

This was the question that you couldn’t mess up.

“Honestly?” you asked but didn’t wait for a reply. “I made a promise to someone a while ago, that I would follow them no matter what, no matter where. I’m a woman of my word. While my alchemy is not what the military is looking for on the front lines of battle, I add ethnic to your ranks. I am very good at theory and I don’t stop looking for answers once I’ve started.”

The room was silent, the last traces of your voice disappearing into the far corners. The air didn’t even move.

After a few moments, King Bradley broke into a wide smile and a hoarse laugh.

“How could I refuse that logic?” he asked. “Passed. I look forward to seeing you at the practicals.”

“Thank you, sir,” you told him, keeping your voice calm.

“Dismissed,” Bradley told you. You rose as gracefully from the chair as possible, your legs tingling from sitting so long without moving. You ignored the pins and needles feeling as you made your way from the chambers.

“So, how did it go?” Roy asked, waiting for you outside. You could see the dust on his uniform where he had probably taken a seat. How long had you been in there?

Riza was noticeably absent, probably sent on some task.

“Passed. I’m going to the practicals.”

“I expected nothing less. They will be next weekend. Are you bringing experiments or are you going to put on another show?” he quirked an eyebrow up to let you know that he was teasing a little. You pushed the memory of his large hands on your waist as the two of you had danced.

“I think I’ll put on another show,” you told him, with a wink.

You lifted the hem of your dress to allow more freedom of movement. You wanted to kick your shoes off and walk barefoot on the sun-warmed white stones of Central.

“Why am I not surprised?” Roy chuckled, rich and low. The sound of it made heat pool in your belly, a shiver racing down your spine. He was so much better when he was amused.

You caught him glancing down at your calves and ankles.

“Like what you see?” you asked playfully, your heart a frisbee soaring through the air at having passed a second part of the test.

He shrugged, but those dark eyes moved over your skin in a slow caress. You felt a blush creep up into your tanned cheeks. You didn’t care what his shoulders said, but his eyes said ‘bedroom.’

“I have some free time tonight,” Roy told you, as the two of you walked to where his car was waiting. He had actually driven himself this morning. “Would you be interested in going to celebrate?”

Before you thought about it, you answered, “Yes, I would.” 


End file.
